The Lights Meets the Dark
by Trixie-Baggins
Summary: What Tobias read surprised him. It humanized him in a way he didn't not know was possible. Inspired by the Divergent Trilogy and the song "Healing Begins" by Tenth Avenue North.


_**The Light Meets the Dark**_

**Tobias**

It's been three weeks since Tris died, and we've just given Uriah his funeral. We stood in the chasm at what was once the Dauntless compound and screamed his name 'til our voices went hoarse and watched the cloud of ash that was him settle. I say 'what was once the Dauntless compound' because Dauntless is no more. The factions are no more. They're trying to rebuild society. Not sure who 'they' are, but they seem to have a lot of good ideas. Joanne's one of them, and I've been helping her. It helps, the work, helps me deal with the emptiness.

So that's why I'm here, for work. Outside and below this room the crowd of Uriah's friends, acquaintances and people who had been affected by his charm and good cheer is still congregated, but inside this room I can barely hear them. Maybe it's because I'm so high up. I'm in Eric's private apartment, and he had never been afraid of heights. I used to envy that about him, although I shudder to think what someone like Eric would be afraid of. It seems like that would be worse than the highest of buildings in what we now know is called Chicago. The name still has a funny ring to it, but probably because I'm not used to it having a name. None of us are. To us it was more than just a city, more than a dot on the map. It was home. It was our entire world.

Eric's apartment is tidy, tidier than mine ever was, or ever will be in the future. I try to not think of how Tris would've redecorated my living abode, try not to think about us moving to a larger home together to make way for the children we could've had. Instead, I focus on the task at hand. As I was the one who was responsible for Eric's death, I wanted to be the one who cleaned out his rooms and packed up his belongings. He said he wanted me to live with the guilt, and I said there wouldn't be any, but in the end, he was right. There is guilt, there always is when you rip the life from another human being. But as each belonging gets packed neatly into a box, some of that guilt slowly melts away. Toothbrush...shampoo...socks...the things you'd expect to find in any other apartment. The kitchen was sparse as the first band of cleaners took out any food items and as Eric ate most of his meals in the cafeteria he had no use for the area. As I empty his closet, carefully folding all the black garments I find in there, I'm surprised to find dresses, heels, and blouses- female garb. I supposed that Eric must have had relationships, after all several girls in our class had admitted to having a crush on him, but it never really occurred to me that he would allow himself to get attached to...well anyone. He had never seemed the type.

I work quickly, but with care, wanting to get out of here as soon as possible, and yet wanting to give each item the respect it deserves because of its belonging to the deceased. I've saved his bedroom and desk area for last, seeing as they are the most personal areas in the entire apartment. Other people had volunteered to do this, and, as I look at his bed with its neat corners and his perfectly aligned bookshelves, I am tempted to take them up on that offer.

Alas...no. I volunteered for this project, and I will see it through. I start with the dresser emptying neatly folded jeans and t-shirts into boxes, just as neatly folded. More clothes belonging to one of the female gender can be found here, as well as certain items for one's hair that would be found in no male's ownership. A curling iron, hairspray, an actual honest-to-goodness hairbrush. They go into a box separate from all of Eric's as I will attempt to track down their rightful owner or her family later.

A jewelry box sits on the dresser, and I pick it up, about to put it in the box, when it slips from my hand and lands on the bedroom carpet, open. Few things were inside, merely a necklace- again something only a female would have- a diamond ring, and a picture of Eric and a girl. His arm is around her shoulders and they look...happy. They're both smiling and he's holding a bouquet of flowers in one hand. She's pretty- dark hair with green highlights that bring out her eyes. Her eyebrow is pierced, but that's the only visible body modification, if you don't count the shoulder tattoo just peeking out from the edge of her cap-sleeved dress. I turn the image over, not wanting to be nosy, but not being able to help myself. Writing that I recognise to be Eric's is found on the back with the inscription, _**Eric and Mandy; SHE SAID YES!**_ I flip the picture back over, examining it more closely. The girl has a diamond ring, the kind of ring you know is an engagement ring, on the ring finger of her left hand. The diamond ring that is now sitting on the floor at my feet. I pick it up, and turn it over in my hands, examining it closely before setting it, and the picture, on the dresser. The jewelry box, and the necklace that was in it, go into a box with the rest of the stuff I can assume is 'Mandy's' which sits next to the box of Eric's clothes on the now bare bed. I knew I would be needing that space to work, so the bedding was one of the first things I had packed up.

With empty box in hand I turn to the desk. A bulletin board sits above it on the wall, filled with pictures of Eric and his beautiful fiancée. She's short, significantly shorter than him, maybe about Tris's height, but I can recognize the fire in her eyes. It was the same fire that Tris had when she was the first jumper. But then I remembered I wasn't thinking about Tris. I was thinking about the task in front of me. Or trying to not think about it, as the case may be. In addition to the images on the board (which I removed and placed in a neat stack on the dresser) there were also test results. I recognized them instantly as the same type of test results that we used for the third stage of Dauntless initiation. On it the name clearly stated "Mandy Forbes". I now had a name to put with the face. I studied the test results carefully, and recognized with a shock that Mandy, like Tris, like Uriah, like numerous others, was Divergent. I took the papers off the bulletin board quickly and set them in the box with Mandy's other belongings. Eric had been involved in a war against Divergents, I hated to think what he had done to this Mandy girl when he found out that she was one of them.

I work methodically through Eric's very organized desk. Plain paper, lined paper, pens, pencils, highlighters. It's neat and tidy and I don't have too much trouble organizing the items found in it in boxes. In one of the drawers I found notes on the various initiates including Uriah and Tris. Further down I found notes from when Eric and I had been initiates. I avoided reading as much of the writings as I could, but some caught my eye and I read a little here, little there.

_Stage 1- The Stiff has courage, but she's far too small to be of any use._

_Stage 1- Peter is ruthless, we might be able to use that later._

_Stage 2- Four and the Stiff seem to have an attachment. Should be able to exploit that._

_Stage 3- There are some issues in the Stiff's test results, will need to look more closely._

_Stage 3- Some abnormalities in Uriah's test results. Will examine along with the Stiff's. _

It was a log. A log of the various day to day activities the initiates engaged in. I didn't want to know what Eric did with these or who else had seen them, but I couldn't help but think that he had been collecting this information for Jeanine. It sickened me to think of him working with that sad excuse for a human being. Despite stopping to read some of Eric's log entries the desk contents were gone through and sorted rather quickly.

The sun was just beginning to set when I opened the last drawer. There was a single book inside. It was bound in grey leather and was nearly full of writing on lined paper. It didn't take me long to realize that this was Eric's diary. A collection of all of his most intimate thoughts and fears. I was tempted to read the whole thing, but thought of how I would feel if someone were to read my private diary. I go to put it in the box when two pages, the last page with writing on it and a larger, folded piece, fall out. The spot where the lined paper should have been in the book is well-worn and the binding is broken, as if someone has opened, closed, and reopened the book to that particular spot multiple times. The writing on it is dark, as if written angrily, and there is much crossing out of words. What I read humanizes Eric in a way I did not wish to happen:

_Mandy is dead. She was Divergent and we had kept this a secret for a while, but somehow Jeanine found out and had her killed. I got to see her body, but that was it, I didn't even get to say goodbye. I can't do this anymore; I can't go on, not without her. I don't know what to do, if only she were still here to tell me._

Further down on the page I find what appears to be the last entry in the diary:

_We're staging an attack tomorrow; I'll be captured by the Dauntless and eventually killed. I don't care what happens to me, but it will all be worth it to be reunited with her._

It was a side of Eric I had never seen. A side no one had seen. Here was a man much different than the person who made Christina hold on for dear life. Here was a man much different than the person who injected everyone who looked up to him with an attack serum. Here was a man much, much different than the monster we had thought was trying to kill all of the Divergent.

I'm still in shock as I look down at the folded page still in my hand. It has Eric's neat handwriting on the top, and it says _Tobias_. It takes longer than it should for me to realize that's my name. I sit on the desk chair, which is the closest piece of furniture to me and open it, slowly, cautiously. I don't know what I'll find inside, but I brace myself for it. It's not at all what I expect:

_Dear Tobias- I can call you that, right?  
_

_If you're reading these words that means I'm dead, and you'll be going through my personal belongings. There was a reason I asked you to kill me. It's because I knew you would. It's because I knew you would want to clean up my personal effects, and because I knew you would eventually find this. Because I need to tell someone this, even if it's after I've died. First of all, let me say this: __**Thank you-**_

I stop here abruptly. He knew I would kill him, he knew that I would be the one to pack up his stuff, and yet he was thanking me?! Why? I wanted the answer, and didn't have to look much further down the page to find it.

_Yes, that's right, I'm thanking you. 'Why?' you may ask, so let me tell you- for reuniting me with the love of my life. By the time you find this letter, you should know about Mandy, her existence at least, if not the fact that she, like you, was Divergent. _

Apparently he's behind on the times here, as I'm not actually a Divergent- I just carry one of their traits.

_I was the one who administered her initiation phase 3 tests, and discovered this. At first, I was going to do what I normally did, to report her, to be there when she was executed as she did not fit into the plan, but she did something that no other Divergent before or after her has done. Most of them scream, beg for mercy, cry, tell me how much they hate my guts, but not her. No, she was still and silent as a stone and her bright green eyes were soft and kind as she looked into mine and said __**'I forgive you.'**__ That's right- she knew I was going to kill her, and she was forgiving me. _

_And then again she did something that no one else had done- she asked me why I was killing the Divergent. I gave the usual speech, but she wasn't going to buy that. I didn't have the personal answer she was looking for, in fact I didn't have a personal answer at all. Mandy helped me see what I was doing for what it truly was- a horrible and detestable practice. She helped me look inside of myself and see who I was as a __**person**__, not as a weapon, or as a Dauntless leader. Against all odds, I fell in love with her, and against even more odds, she fell in love with me. I was a horrible person, I still am, but she changed me. The person I was with her, was worth being, and I wouldn't trade that for all the power in the world. I proposed to her under the carousel that's on the capture the flag arena-_

I stop reading momentarily and go to the dresser where the engagement picture still sits. Peering in the darkness of the background I can indeed make out the carousel, and even part of the Ferris wheel. The Ferris wheel that Tris and I climbed up- but no, this wasn't about Tris, this was about Eric and this girl called Mandy. And about me. I go back to the letter and the desk chair:

_-capture the flag arena. She said yes, and we spent several happy years together. _

_Mandy was beautiful. She was charming, and funny, intelligent and daring. There was a fire in her that ignited her to stand up for what she believed and knew in her heart to be right. She wasn't afraid to be different, or to live by the Dauntless Manifesto- __**to shout for those who could only whisper; to defend those who could not defend themselves.**__ I loved watching her come alive, because every time she did, her eyes sparkled, and she made me feel alive. I felt like I could make a difference when she was next to me. She loved me, not just in spite of who I was, but because of it. And because of who she knew I could become. Mandy may have been complicated, but she was mine. I suppose a fire that burns that brightly is not meant to last long. _

_As you may have already guessed or read, Jeanine found out about her Divergence and had her killed, without my knowledge. If she would do that do the woman I loved more than life itself, how would she treat me, I wondered, if I hesitated to do what she wanted._

_I don't know how much Amar has told you, assuming you and he have been united by now, but I helped him escape. He'd always been good to me, been like a father figure to me, and I wanted him to be safe. I also helped George fake his death as he and Mandy had always been good friends and had transferred to Dauntless together. You can tell Tori, or not, I leave that in your hands. _

Poor Tori, I thought. She had spent years thinking her brother was dead, and here he was alive and well thanks to the person she wanted dead secondly to Jeanine herself. She would never know what Eric had done for her family, what he had risked in order for the person she loved to be safe. There wasn't much more to the letter and so I read on, slowly, to make sure I could comprehend each and every word.

_The rest you know- you were there. We staged the attack, I was captured, and you killed me. By the time you read these words, I'll be long gone and you'll be happily involved with your Tris. _

If only. If only she was alive, if only we could have had a relationship and lived happily for the rest of our lives. But alas, fate is cruel-hearted and she died far younger than she should have. There were just a few more lines, and I held back tears as I read them.

_Do this for me, Tobias, please- don't let it go to waste. Love her like your next day is your last, and make sure she knows that she means the world to you. And whatever you do, don't look back. There's something out there that's bigger than all of us, and we need each other. Not only to get through the hard times, but to celebrate the happy ones. __**Be Brave, Eric**_

After I finish the letter, I rest my elbows on the desk, put my head in my hands and sob. It's not very manly of me, and it's definitely not very Dauntless, but I need to. I cry for Tris, who didn't live long enough to say goodbye. I cry for Uriah, who had died as a result of my actions. I cry for Christina, who's lost so many people who were dear to her. I cry for Tori, who never got to see her brother alive and well, who lived every day of her life bitterly, because she didn't know the truth. I cry for George who came so, **so close,** to being reunited with his sister.

And I cry for Eric. For Eric and for this Mandy, his Mandy, that I've never met. I cry for everyone else who has lost someone in this war, and for those who are lost, who don't know what happens after this. Who aren't sure how to carry on alone.

It's here that Zeke finds me, long after dark and he walks me gently, like an older brother, to my sleeping quarters. I can't sleep though. In every inch of this compound I see Tris, and all the moments and memories we shared together. Tris, who jumped first. Tris, who showed me selfless was brave. Tris, who dared to love and to forgive. I see Christina, dangling by her fingertips, holding on until those five minutes were up. Christina and Will, laughing, flirting. Uriah, making a ridiculously corny joke, and yet still getting everyone to laugh. Uriah, who was able to make light of even the darkest and grimmest situations.

And then I see him. I see Eric, not Eric who would've done anything to become a Dauntless leader, not Eric who was at Max's beck and call, not Eric who worked for Jeanine, instead, I see new Eric. The Eric I've just met. I see the Eric who purposely lost a battle in order to die, because he was in love. And now, now I see Mandy, a girl who up until this date was unknown to me, who reformed him, who I thought could never be reformed. Mandy, who made him happy, who made him rethink who he was.

I need to get out of here. I leave, and I don't look back.

**Tobias**

I carry Eric's letter with me wherever I go, now. I carried it with me when I went to go see Tris's body. I carry it with me on what would have been the day of The Choosing Ceremony years later when we're finally going to say goodbye to Tris. I carry it with me to the top of the Hancock Building. _And whatever you do, don't look back._ I don't. Instead, I close my eyes and let Zeke strap me into the harness for the zipline. I open them as Tris's ashes float down upon us like snowflakes.

I carry Eric's letter with me through my daily routine of work. It's starting to tear at the fold lines from all the times I've opened it and read it before folding it back up again. I don't choose a Dauntless job like Amar and George do. Mostly because I can't be part of that life anymore. And partly because every time I look at those two faces, I think of Eric, who gave everything up for a love we didn't even know he had. One day, I think, I'll ask Amar or George about it, but the right time never arises.

I stood in front of the mirror in what used to be my house in the Abnegation sector of the city. My hair is short again, the length lies in a semi-circle around my feet. In one hand is Eric's letter, in the other, a bottle of memory serum. I hear a voice behind me and I leave the former on the dresser as I turn to see Christina. She's followed me here, and I don't know why. She looks at me, and she knows. Knows what I've come here to do. 'I didn't know Will long,' she says, 'but he changed me. And I know Tris changed you even more. The person you were with her is worth being, and if you take the serum, you'll never be able to get back to him.' I hear her words, but all I can also hear Eric's _Thank you for reuniting me with the love of my life_. Maybe losing my memory isn't the answer, maybe death is.

But it's not, is it? There are other kinds of people in this world. There is the kind like Tris, who after suffering and betrayal could still find enough love to lay down her life instead of her brother's. Or the kind like Cara, who could still forgive the person who shot her brother in the head. Or the kind like Christina, who lost friend after friend but still decided to stay open, to make new ones.

Or the kind like Eric's Mandy, I think, who looked into the eyes of the man who was going to kill her and told him she forgave him. _The person you were with her was worth being,_ Christina's words echo in my mind. And then, similar to hers, I hear Eric's- _I was a horrible person, I still am, but she changed me. The person I was with her was worth being, and I wouldn't trade that for all the power in the world. _

Appearing in front of me is another choice, brighter and stronger than the ones I gave myself. Than the one that Eric gave himself.

I give Christina the vial, but collect the letter off the dresser. There are so many ways to be brave in this world. Sometimes bravery involves laying down your life for something bigger than yourself, or for someone else. Sometimes it involves giving up everything you have ever known, or everyone you have ever loved, for the sake of something greater.

But sometimes it doesn't.

Sometimes it's nothing more than gritting your teeth through pain and the work of every day, the slow walk to a better life. That's the kind of bravery I must have now.

Ever since I was young I have known this: Life damages us, every one. We can't escape that damage.

But now, I am learning this: We can be mended. We mend each other.

I think of Uriah, who could quote the entire Dauntless Manifesto by heart. _I believe in ordinary acts of bravery, in the courage that drives one person to stand up for another._ I had seen that courage, but I had seen it fueled by love. If I had the chance, I would've liked to add something else to that Manifesto. I would have liked to add _I believe in love. I believe that love forgives all wrongs, and that it is more important than power, or money or fame. I believe that love is worth dying for. I believe that love forms you into the best version of yourself that you can be. I believe that love does not depend on aesthetics. That one day you'll wake up to realize that someone you didn't really notice before, is now the most beautiful person in the world, and that the only thing that your life is about, the only thing that keeps you smiling, was, all the time, right next to you. And most importantly, I believe that greater love has no one than this, that they would lay down their life for another. . _

I don't know what's in store for me. I don't know if I'll marry, if I'll have kids. I do know this, though, when I die, the people who find my body, will find a letter in the left breast pocket of my clothes. It will be old, nearly ripped to shreds from constant unfolding and refolding. That letter will be yellowed with age, the ink will be faded and there may even be some tearstains on it in places. It will say Tobias on the front, in the neatest handwriting you've ever seen. And inside that letter, they will find another letter, a letter I, myself, have written. The beginning and middle of it are yet unknown to me at this stage of life, but here's what the ending will say:

_I believe that people can change each other, and that they can turn even the worst of people into a person that's worth being. I've seen it happened, and it's happened to me. Please, remember this: If you meet someone that you love more than life itself, don't let it go to waste. Love that person like your next day will be your last, and make sure that they know that they mean the world to you. And whatever you do, don't look back. There's something out there that's bigger than all of us, and we need each other. Not only to get through the hard times, but to celebrate the happy ones. __**Be Brave, Tobias**_


End file.
